Lessons To Be Learnt
by Peggie
Summary: Dick reflects on the events that led to another fight between Bruce and himself, and the unforeseen consequences of it.


Disclaimer: DC Comics and Time/Warner own All the characters; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright.

Lessons To Be Learnt

By

Peggie

"Dick, if you're there pick up. Dick, pick up, it's Bruce."

Oh yes, as if I hadn't guessed. Only Bruce, would think he could ring up to try and make things right. I looked at the crack in the ceiling and counted to ten. Were we now going to have another reasonable, discussion about how he was only doing things for my own good? How he only wanted to help. How he was hurt! Him hurt, ice man, the man with the kevlar shroud around his heart. I was about to rip the power lead to the answering machine out of the wall when I heard his voice change. He was no longer the calm, reasonable, guardian, nor the angry, hurt, father. There was something else in his voice, a frightened desperate appeal. That voice made my blood freeze. I'd never expected to hear Bruce sound like that.

"Dick, pick up, please. Dick, it's ..Alfred; we're at the Mercy General Hospital. Dick.." from the sound of his voice I knew it had to be bad. He sounded frightened, very frightened, like a lost little boy.

My heart was in my mouth as I picked up the receiver.

"Bruce what is it, what's happened? Has there been an accident? What's happened to Alfred?"

"Dick, thank goodness your there." the relief in his voice was overwhelming. "Alfred has had..a heart attack, that's what they're saying."

"How bad?" I asked my own heart felt frozen within my chest. I was silently praying, something I thought I forgotten how to do. Something I hadn't done since I'd knelt next to my dead parents. Then I'd prayed, prayed that what I had seen hadn't happened. I felt the same now. I was praying that what I was hearing wasn't true.

"I, don't know, they won't say!" 

His voice sounded so lost, so like that of a small lonely child that I felt sick to my stomach. When they won't say, it usually means it's bad. If they were refusing to tell Bruce Wayne, Gotham's wealthiest man, a hospital benefactor, then it must be really bad.

I could hear Bruce talking his voice just above a whisper, "He was on the kitchen floor, I found him.. on the floor, just minutes after you'd gone. I thought he was.. he looked like he was .... Oh, Dick it my fault."

"Bruce hold on, I'll be there in half an hour." Half an hour! It was a good fifty minutes drive from Blündhaven to central Gotham. My fear was that even half an hour would be too long.

"It all my fault.." I heard Bruce saying again as I flung the receiver back down. I grabbed my coat, crashed out of my apartment building and dived into the car. I don't even think I stopped to lock the door to my apartment. Mind you Clancy saw me leave, she'll check. God I must have broken every speed limit going, yet still the journey seemed to last forever.

I replayed events of the last twelve hours in my mind.

It had started as it always did with Bruce doing what he, thought best. I had found him last night following me on my patrol in Blündhaven. Blündhaven is my town not his! When I asked him what he was doing there he'd said he thought I needed help. He'd thought! 

For weeks I'd been on the trail of a gang of racketeers. These punks were selling drugs too High School kids. But every step of my official investigation had hit a brick wall. If police department red tape and corruption meant Dick Grayson detective, couldn't bring them to justice, then Nightwing would. 

Batman was in Blündhaven because he'd got information on the drug smugglers I had been investigating as part of the case. So Batman had come to help. It had never occurred to him to give me the information and then wait and see if I asked for his help. No the Big, Bad, Bat, was going to run things for little Dick, just like he'd done for little Robin, he was going to save the day just as he always did. I was going to watch the Master at work and be grateful for his help. **Like Hell I Was**! I am no longer Robin, he saw to that, now I am Nightwing and I don't need the Batman to protect me. Besides Blündhaven is my town. So I told him to get out. 

"Dick, I came to help!" he'd growled.

"Get out of my town, Batman you're not wanted, or needed here."

He'd taken off from the roof, but he hadn't gone; and I'd been wrong. Yes, looking back at it now, now something more important to the pair of us than our stupid pride is at stake, I can say it, I'd been wrong. I did need help and who better than Batman to give it! 

There were too many of them for just one person to handle, even Batman couldn't have stopped them on his own. If I'd been thinking straight I would have realised that and called for police back up. I could have got colleagues in to help. Not all of the Blündhaven force is corrupt. But I was angry, because Batman thought I couldn't cope, that I would need help, so like a fool I'd rushed in headfirst. It was only when I'd been well and truly overpowered, beaten and hurt that Batman dropped in to save the day.

God, I'd been so angry with him that I'd just stormed off without saying a word. I had been sure he'd waited until I was well and truly humiliated before he joined the battle, just to teach me a lesson.

When I'd got home I'd turned off the phone and thrown myself into bed. But sleep wouldn't come, I had seethed all the rest of the small hours until dawn. Angry with Bruce and furious with myself for letting him get to me like that. For letting him cloud my reasoning. I knew I had to do something. Making up my mind I had decided to have it out with him. Looking back on it now I don't know why I did. Our arguments never solve anything. They just cause a bigger rift between us and they hurt the people we both love. Of course the one person at the top of that list is Alfred!

It's no good going to Wayne Manor and expecting to see Bruce any time before eleven. Eleven is when Alfred starts his morning ritual of waking Bruce up. The old guy, the nearest thing I've ever had to a grandfather, does everything like a ritual. First of all he draws the Curtains, then it's the cheerful "Good morning Master Bruce". No matter how he looks or how he feels, not that Alfred ever lets on how he feels, his morning ritual is always carried out in a cheerful manner. He then runs the shower while Bruce groans and tries to ignore him. Next it's the tray on the bed, with some remark about something Bruce should do that day. While Bruce eats Alfred lays out cloths and while Bruce showers Alfred clears up the room. It's been the same as long as I've known them, I suspect it's been that way since Bruce's father hired Alfred, over thirty years ago. 

My heart nearly stops when I think that tomorrow is going to be different. Tomorrow, Alfred won't, be following his normal routine. Even though Bruce and I no longer get on, it's strange the comfort I find in imagining him and Alfred together at home. I do still think of Wayne Manor as home. Even if Bruce and I are not speaking, Alfred is there for me. Just like he always has been, from those first confusing days, through all the highs and lows of my life as Robin, and later Nightwing, Alfred has been my one anchor. The one person to give me unconditional love. 

Speeding toward the hospital I nearly wipe myself out at a junction as I screech past a slow moving bus, right into the path of truck. Luckily my reflexes are razor sharp. I steer around the lorry seeing the driver's frightened face. Come on Dick my boy, Alfred needs you in one piece! I focus my mind back on the day's events, anything not to think about what I may find at the end of my journey.

It had been midday when I'd got to the Manor. I'd hammed on the door until I could feel it shaking. A flustered Alfred had opened the door. Looking back, he had seemed a lot paler than usual, the ever present dark shadows beneath his eyes had stood out more clearly than I'd ever seen them. 

"Master Dick!" he said smiling, evidently pleased to see me. Bruce had obviously not got around to telling him about last night. It always surprises me how much Bruce tells the old man. It's as if Bruce / Batman is still a child who needs to tell his parent everything before can make sense of it. As if he needs Alfred's rational insights to focus his own thoughts. 

"I'm sorry to have taken so long to answer the door, I was cleaning the bedrooms on third floor." he'd said.

To get from the third floor to the door in the three minutes I'd been pounding on it, and to take his cleaning apron off and put his jacket on, he must have moved pretty fast. I suddenly felt cold. God had that contributed to his heart attack. 

Alfred had to be about sixty-five, yet you never would tell from looking at him. He could pass for late middle age. Apart from his hair, receding and getting a little greyer, he never seemed to change. He is still the same Alfred I remember seeing smiling at me on that first day at Wayne Manor. I suspect Bruce like myself takes him for granted. Takes for granted the fact that no matter what happens to Batman, Robin, Nightwing, Bruce Wayne or Dick Grayson, Alfred will be there to fix breakfast, listen our problems and give advice. Today, whatever happens, is going to remind both of us that this is not always going to be the case. One day, hopefully not today, please God, please, not today; Alfred won't be there!

I had stood outside Wayne Manor looking at Alfred with cold eyes. As I watched I saw the old man's face change. The smile had just sort of melted on his features. He'd sighed and the old careworn expression, of a man about to be caught in the middle of another family feud, took its place. I saw in his eyes reflected the old pain he felt every time his surrogate son and grandson started fighting. God help me, I hadn't even the good grace to say hello to the guy. I'd just pushed past him demanding to see Bruce. 

"Master Bruce, is not yet down young sir." he'd said his voice tired and worn. He had then done what Alfred does best, he had tried to delay me, tried to get me in the frame of mind were there would be a chance that Bruce and I might come out of the encounter with some kind of relationships still intact. As always with Alfred, the distraction centred around food and the kitchen. "I've got some freshly squeeze orange juice in the kitchen. How about you have some of that, while I fix you some lunch?"

"No thanks!" I'd growled, ungrateful brat that I am. When I close my eyes now, the thing I can see most clearly of all, is the hurt look on Alfred's face as I pushed past him and headed up to Bruce's room. That look will be there to haunt me for the rest of my life if the old guy doesn't make it. Because for all the love and laughter we shared; shared; no not shared; that he has given to me, my last act toward him will have been to impart pain.

I had found Bruce in the upstairs study. He had been finishing his cup of tea and reading the paper. Blazed across the front page 'Batman Catches Drugs Gang!'

Batman! I'd worked for days on that case and here everyone was praising Batman for my work. "Happy" I'd shouted pointing to the headline. He'd raised on eyebrow, a trick he'd picked up from Alfred. 

"This isn't about collecting headlines Dick. It is about justice." he'd growled.

"Justice, I worked my butt off on that case and you walk in at the end and take the glory." I'd snarled.

"So that's what you want, glory, that's why you became a police officer, that's why you became Nightwing, for glory." the sarcasm in his voice had cut into me.

I was choking on my rage at that point. No, glory didn't come into it. At first vengeance had. I wanted to nail the creep that had killed my family. Then through Bruce's guidance I had understood the need for blind justice. It was my desire for this goal that had driven me to become Nightwing after Bruce had taken away the Robin role. Even though Alfred had explained, as only Alfred could, Bruce's reasons for not wanting me to be Robin, I still resented the fact that Bruce had done it. He had made the decision after Joker had shot me. Alfred knew it was Bruce's fear of losing me that had made him do it. Yet that very act of trying to keep me safe had destroyed our relationship.

"Why did you wait until they half killed me before you helped?" I demanded through gritted teeth. "Did you want me to learn the hard way, that the Bat is always right? Figured I needed a lesson I wouldn't forget in a hurry, was that it Bruce?"

His face had register shock, I knew then that I'd been wrong. Very wrong, even in his most sadistic mood, and believe me he does have a sadistic streak, he wouldn't do that to me.

"No, Dick, heaven no, I was just watching, I never expected you to tackle a dozen of them. I thought you'd call for backup. You honestly thought I do that, let them half kill you? Let some thug half kill my own son!" He'd yelled.

"You're not my father and I am not your son!" I'd yelled back, trying and succeeding in inflicting pain.

"Get out of my house." Bruce had yelled his face red with rage.

As I'd spun around to leave I saw Alfred stood at the door. A tray with two cup of tea and a plate of cookies on it was gripped in his hands. He was looking at the two of us with despair etched across his face. That look of pain and defeat had stopped both of us. However much we desired to hurt each other, the last person either one of us wanted to hurt, was the one person we always succeeded in hurting. Alfred had just shaken his head sadly, then, as we both watched in silence, he'd put the tray on the side table and moved off down the stairs to the kitchen.

I'd looked back at Bruce "Stay out of Blündhaven, if I need help I'll decide when, and who to ask for it." I'd said quietly.

He'd just nodded. I'd then strode out of the room. As I reached the bottom of the stairs I'd stopped to take a deep breath. I'd turned towards the kitchen, but then, coward that I am, I couldn't face seeing the old mans pain again. Now I realised if I had I might have discovered him sooner, I might have been able to help the old guy. Right now I hate myself for not having been there for him.

I left the car parked out front of the hospital, they could tow it, crush it, whatever they liked I hadn't got time to find a parking zone. What did it matter, the only thing that mattered was my family.

Coronary care was on the tenth floor. Why they always put Coronary Care in the most inaccessible place in a hospital I'll never know! Waiting for the elevators seemed an agony so I ran up the stairs. The first thing I saw as I got to the tenth floor was a defeated looking Bruce, he was sat hunched up in a chair, rocking very slightly back and forth. I squatted down in front of him. "Bruce how..?" the lump in my throat wouldn't let me finish the sentence.

His terrified eyes met mine, "I don't know, I.. daren't ask." he whispered.

This wasn't Batman, defender of Gotham speaking. This was the little boy who'd witness his parents slaying. Who now faced losing his best friend, the man who had kept Bruce Wayne alive and sane. The one constant in his whole life. Bruce was scared that he was about to lose his second father.

I stopped a nurse, "It my grandfather, Alfred Pennyworth, my father and I were wondering how he is?" 

A young woman came to join us. She looked at me then turning to Bruce recognition filled her eyes, "Mr.." she stopped. She looked at the name on her notes then back to Bruce, "I am sorry I am only allowed to give information to relatives." she said very apologetically.

"We are relatives, we're a family." I assured her.

"Well, I don't know," She must have seen the agony in Bruce's face because she relented, "Mr. Wayne your.."

"Father." I supplied.

She looked at Bruce again.

"As good as." Bruce muttered.

"Your ..farther, has had a mild, coronary infraction. In other words a blockage of part of the circulatory system around the heart. Although part of the heart mussel dies in these cases, in your ..father's case it would appear it has not been a large part. We will need to operate, to carry out a 'Coronary Artery Bypass', but with care the prognosis is good in these cases. Do you want to see him now?"

We both nodded, "He's out of danger?" I asked. 

The young doctor hesitated. "We can not say that for any coronary patient within the first twenty four hours. But we are very pleased with his progress."

I nearly had to lift Bruce from the chair. I had to guide him the short walk down the hall, I could feel Bruce trembling as I held his arm. Alfred looked pale, his face showed every day of sixty-five years. I'd never seen the old man look so fragile. He was surrounded by monitors and was wearing an oxygen mask. As we stood next to the bed Bruce gently took the old mans hand. "We're here Alfred, Dick and I are both here. We need you back with us old friend. **I **need you back."

Bruce then said the 'L' word, in all my years at Wayne Manor I never heard Bruce say that word. As Alfred had pointed out to me, often, Bruce loves us. He demonstrates his love for us in many ways, but he just can't say the word. Tonight he said it.

"Come on Alfred, I need you, I ..love you old man, don't leave me."

We'd stayed with him for the ten minutes they allowed us. Neither one of us intended leaving the hospital until we knew Alfred was out of danger. I rang up work, then rang Clancy to tell her the news. Next I rang Babs to tell her not to expect Batman out for a couple of nights. 

Then we sat together in the waiting room reminiscing about the years we'd spent as a family. By the time the crucial twenty-four hours were up, although we would never be as close as we had been in those early days, we had mended a lot of fences.

Epilogue

Alfred's surgery was successful. It was stressed to Bruce the man needed to rest and that he would need looking after in the early stages of his recovery. Getting Alfred to rest is like trying to stop the sun rising every morning. No excitement, and definitely no worries, were the Doctors other orders. There was no way that those orders could be followed at Wayne Manor. Just sending the old guy off on holiday wouldn't work either, we were used to Alfred's calls checking up on us when he was away from home. Bruce is Alfred's son in all but name. Knowing that Bruce was out on the streets of Gotham tackling the likes of Joker, Bane and Two face would certainly worry the old guy. I knew he got very little sleep when Batman was out, he certainly got no rest until he was home again, and Bruce Wayne was once again under Alfred's care. So the unthinkable happened, Bruce took a holiday, he booked them both on a month long cruise. While he was away I covered for him. Alfred's now back to normal again. Bruce keeps a close eye on him to make sure he stays that way. Bruce and I have learnt two very important lessons. No one should be taken for granted, and life is too short to waste fighting amongst ourselves. 


End file.
